The boys were now near enough to see what was happening. The barge was broadside on to the current. It was so big that the force of the river was bearing it hard against the side of the schooner, which was careening badly.
“Is there anyone on the barge?” called Jerry.
“Yes!” came back the answer. “Can you throw me a line and pull me back? I don’t want to sink the vessel!”
“Stand by to catch!” cried Jerry.
He stood up in the bow and cast a line to a dark figure that ran out to the end of the barge, nearest the motor boat. The man skillfully caught the line, and fastened it to a cleat.
Then, under Jerry’s direction, Ned swung the Dartaway about in a big circle, taking care not to foul the tow line. The rope was fastened to the stern of the motor boat, and, when the latter was pointed up stream it tautened suddenly.
Ned put the engine at full speed, and slowly, very slowly, for the weight was considerable, the hay barge was pulled away from the schooner. The latter, relieved of the pressure, began to right.
“That’s the stuff!” cried the man on the barge. He was in the full glare of the search lamp, which Jerry had reversed to play on the barge, and the boys saw that he was a tramp. His clothes hung in rags about him, and his face looked as if it had not felt a razor in months.
“Pull her up the river a way and tie her to the bank, if you will,” the tramp said, stepping out of the glare of the light suddenly. “She drifted down stream with me,” he went on.